


Prompt 2: Comfort Media

by irrationalgame



Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Comfortween, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fill, Thommy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: For the comfortween challenge over at: https://hurtcomfortex.dreamwidth.org/22946.html2. Comfort MediaMovie night, Netflix and comfort, sleep overs.Jimmy’s depressed and Thomas thinks he knows the cure.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent, Thomas Barrow/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949317
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	Prompt 2: Comfort Media

**Author's Note:**

> I had to take some liberties with the prompt here but it’s serviceable 😬 
> 
> Unbeta’d

Jimmy had been in a funny sort of mood for a good month or so, and he’d taken to snapping at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way, sulking sullenly in the corner and refusing to be tempted out by cards, the piano or the little bite-sized choux pastries Thomas had manipulated Ivy into making especially for the footman.

Thomas would never admit it but it _hurt_ to be cut out - they’d been firm friends for a good while now and usually spent the evenings chatting and smoking and generally hanging around until Carson sent them off to bed. Sometimes even after that Jimmy would invite himself to Thomas’s room and they’d have a drink and a few cigs together before they turned in. Thomas was always knackered the next day - he wasn’t getting any younger after all - but never regretted staying up late because, well, it was _Jimmy_. And now it was almost like they’d reverted back to that awful year where Jimmy had ignored and reviled the under-butler until he’d wanted to rip out his treacherous heart and toss it into the nearest river for making him fall in love with someone who hated the mere sight of him.

He couldn’t live through a second round.

More worryingly the footman had been making so many mistakes in his work that Thomas had taken to following him around and fixing the many disasters he seemed to unwittingly leave in his wake. On more that one occasion Thomas suspected Jimmy had been drinking, but hadn’t yet broached the subject for fear of driving Jimmy further away into whatever hole he was currently sinking into.

If Carson caught wind of it though...it didn’t bear thinking about.

Jimmy’s foul mood had started around the time when the De Waldens had come to Downton for the hunt and had ended up staying for two weeks, which had meant extra work for everyone, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Except for the business with Lord De Walden’s valet, but that was only extraordinary to Thomas.

Thomas had an idea that the valet - Theodore - was his sort from the off. Men didn’t look at other men like _that_ unless they were interested in more than the cut of your suit. But history had made Thomas wary and he never would have made the first move unless he was absolutely certain, which it was almost impossible to be. Thankfully, Theo was less cautious. He had cornered Thomas in the courtyard on his third night at Downton and kissed him soundly, the valet’s soft brown curls tickling Thomas’s forehead, and later in the privacy of Thomas’s room, tickling somewhere much less decent. They’d enjoyed each other’s ‘company’ for the duration of the stay and had parted ways with the promise to stay in touch and to look each other up if one or the other was ever nearby.

Thomas hadn’t even considered that Theo - or rather Thomas’s relationship with him - might be the cause of Jimmy’s ill temper until three weeks after the De Walden’s had left. Mr Carson was handing out the mail over breakfast, as usual, and Thomas received two letters - the postmarks showed one to be from his cousin in Bombay, and the other was addressed in a neat hand that Thomas didn’t recognise.

He normally waited until he could get a minute alone to read his post, but curiosity got the better of him. Inside the small envelope were three sheets filled with that same neat writing and signed off _Yours, Theo._

Thomas must have been smiling to himself as he read as Jimmy suddenly spat; “What’s in that letter that’s so interesting then?” It was the most he’d said to anyone in weeks.

“Oh nothing,” Thomas shrugged.

“Is it from that awful valet?” Jimmy said, cutting his bacon so violently his knife screeched against the plate.

As far as Thomas was aware Jimmy and Theo has said barely two sentences to each other for the whole duration of the visit.

“Theodore?” Alfred interrupted, “He seemed nice enough?”

Jimmy glared at Alfred like he’d just called his dead mother a whore. “What would you know about it?” He hissed, “Looks can be deceptive. I mean you look a lot like a _ginger idiot_ but when someone gets to know you they find out you’re actually a lanky, stupid _tosser_.”

“James Kent,” Carson thundered, “have you taken leave of all of your senses?”

“No I have not,” Jimmy stood up, his chair clattering against the tiles, “I’m just sick of everyone going on about that valet like he’s hung the moon is all.” And he stormed out of the servant’s hall. Carson strode down the corridor after him with Thomas at his heels, hastily stuffing the letter into his jacket pocket.

“My office, now!” Carson said - Thomas couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Carson look so angry. Jimmy petulantly stomped into the Butler’s pantry and Thomas caught Carson by the sleeve.

“Mr Carson,” Thomas cast around for a way to excuse Jimmy’s behaviour, “Jimmy’s not been feeling to well recently - he’s, ah, a bit depressed and he’s...”

Carson waved a hand; “He hasn’t said anything to me.”

“He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well it doesn’t excuse speaking to another member of the household in such a manner,” Carson frowned, “but - I’ll bear it in mind.”

The dressing-down went on for a good fifteen minutes and Thomas didn’t even have to eavesdrop - he could hear Carson’s booming voice from the servant’s hall. But Carson has definitely gone easy on him; Jimmy still had a job and the only punishment he received was having to apologise to Alfred at lunch.

After dinner had been served to the upstairs lot and the staff released to their own devices, Thomas went out to the courtyard to smoke and think. As far as he knew nothing had actually happened between Jimmy and Theo - the only common denominator was Thomas himself. Perhaps he’d been less discreet than he’d thought and Jimmy had caught wind of what they’d been up to.

Thomas’s deliberations were interrupted by the back door opening - Jimmy walked out into the yard, spotted Thomas in his usual spot and walked over.

“You’ve not come to shout at _me_ have you?” Thomas asked.

Jimmy shook his head. “Give us a smoke will you?”

Thomas handed him the pack and lighter and waited as Jimmy lit up and took a deep inhale.

“I’ve come to say thanks,” Jimmy said.

“For what?”

“You said something to Carson didn’t you? I think I was lucky to avoid the block this time.”

“What are mates for eh?” Thomas blew a plume of smoke skywards then said; “Jimmy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sorry, but that’s bullshit,” Thomas said. “I know you and..”

“You don’t know _anything_ about me,” Jimmy threw down his cigarette. “You’re not as clever as you bloody think you are. And you’re not careful or discreet or...”

“Is this because Theo and I - because we were together?” Thomas said.

Jimmy pulled a face, “It is illegal, you know that? You don’t have to be so _obvious_ all the time.”

Thomas sighed and ground out his cigarette with his heel. He felt like his chest was about to crack open. “I’m sorry my way of life is so disgusting to you Jimmy, I am. But, unlike you who has every girl in ten miles chasing him, I don’t get many chances.”

“Thomas,” Jimmy said and he gripped the under-butler’s arm, “you’re not disgusting - it’s not that - it’s just. I don’t want to lose you. If you got caught or something I’d - you’d lose your job and maybe end up in prison. All over a frankly ugly and annoying valet.”

Thomas blinked. “Is that why you’ve been so snappish?”

Jimmy nodded tightly; “That and...other things. I’m not right Thomas, I feel - I feel sick all the time and my chest aches and I feel so tired it’s like my bones are too heavy and it’s an effort just to keep standing up.”

“Do you need a Doctor?”

The footman shook his head. “I need a holiday or summat.”

“I’d take you to the seaside if I could finagle it,” Thomas said and Jimmy gave him a sad smile.

“If only.”

* * *

  
After the Alfred incident Jimmy was less unpleasant, but only because he barely spoke to anyone. One morning, after Thomas had received another letter from Theo, he slipped into the boot room to read it only to find Jimmy sobbing quietly as he slowly polished a pair of riding boots.

Thomas closed the door and sat down at the bench - Jimmy was scrubbing his face dry with his sleeve and smearing boot polish on his forehead in the process.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s the matter,” Thomas said. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the dirt from Jimmy’s face.

“That’s it though,” Jimmy sniffed, “I don’t know why. Maybe I just need some cheering up.”

There and then Thomas decided he was going to cheer Jimmy up, if it was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

It took a few days planning and a great deal of begging on Thomas’s part but he finally managed to get a half day off for himself and Jimmy that Friday afternoon.

“I’m taking you out,” Thomas said, but Jimmy looked unconvinced.

“Don’t feel much like going out,” he replied.

“Look here you ungrateful little shit, I’ve had to agree to chaperone Alfred and Ivy, do an entire inventory of the silver and I owe Mrs Patmore a bottle of rum - don’t ask - to get this time off, so we bloody well _are_ going,” Thomas said.

And so Friday came around and they set off to York together.

“What have you got planned then?” Jimmy said, stealing another of Thomas’s cigarettes.

“Lunch at a decent restaurant, drinks and dancing at the Thè Dansant,” Jimmy shot him a funny look so he continued, “with women, not each other, you great idiot. Then there’s a new Valentino film playing - _Moran of the Lady Letty_.”

“I don’t know how much you think footmen get paid,” Jimmy griped, “but it ain’t enough for all that.”

“It’s my treat,” Thomas shrugged, “you need cheering up and I’m hoping this will do the trick.”

“You’re doing all this to - to try and make me feel better?” Jimmy said, his blue eyes glassy.

“You’re my best mate, I’d do anything to help you.”

Jimmy clenched his jaw and looked away, clearly touched by the sentiment. “Soppy old git.”

Thomas ignored him and continued; “Oh, and I thought you should know I’ve knocked it on the head with Theo, so that’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

That got Jimmy’s full attention. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, wrote to him earlier this week. It weren’t going to work in the long run anyway.”

“Well that’s - that’s the _berries_ Thomas, I mean Mr Barrow,” Jimmy grinned.

“I think Thomas would be just fine, actually,” Thomas replied.

When they got off the bus Jimmy was like a new man. He practically skipped down the stairs and stood in the street grinning like a madman.

“You seem...happier,” Thomas noted.

“Well the whole point of this was to cheer me up, weren’t it, Thomas?” Jimmy said, “so consider me suitably cheered.”

“We haven’t done anything yet, except a particularly boring bus ride.”

“Yeah, but I just know I’m gonna enjoy it. Come on, I’m hungry,” and Jimmy took hold of Thomas’s elbow and practically dragged him down the street.

They had lunch in a nicer restaurant than Thomas would have usually dined in - it cost a packet but it was worth it for the sight of Jimmy eating a slice of chocolate cake that was almost as big as his head.

After, the Thé Dansant proved to be a nice distraction - the girls there were practically falling over themselves to dance with Jimmy. Thomas danced the foxtrot and the one step with a pretty blonde called Annie, then excused himself to get another pint and leaned against the bar as Jimmy whirled by with yet another woman in his arms. He threw Thomas a conspiratorial wink over his shoulder and once the song had ended he joined Thomas as the bar.

Jimmy took Thomas’s half-drunk pint out of his hand and downed the remainder in two gulps. “Two more please,” he gestured to the barman.

“Enjoying yourself?” Thomas asked.

“I am,” he fiddled with his hair where it had fallen out of place, “this were a great idea.”

“I’m full of them.”

“You’re full of something,” he grinned, more like his usual cheeky self, and bumped his shoulder against Thomas’s just as he was about to take a swig of his pint. Ale sloshed over the side of the glass and on to Thomas’s shoes.

“You’re a bloody pest,” Thomas said with mock outrage.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Says who.”

“You know you do.”

Thomas just shook his head and lit a two cigarettes. They smoked and watched the dancing for a few moments, their shoulders pressed together, until Jimmy turned to Thomas and said; “I wish we could dance together.”

“Oh yes, a fine idea if you want to get arrested,” Thomas replied.

“It’s a stupid law,” Jimmy muttered. He was a little drunk, a band of pink colouring his nose and cheeks. “As if it means anything anyway. I’ve just danced wiv five different birds and I don’t plan on doin’ anythin’ more than that wiv them.”

“A true gentleman, as always.”

“An’ anyway, you’re a better dancer than the lot o’ them,” the footman continued. “And better lookin’.

“You’re drunk.”

“Only a little,” Jimmy pulled a face. “But I do wish we could dance together. It’d be awfully nice, right?”

Thomas ignored the comment looked at his watch - the film didn’t start for another twenty minutes, but he wanted to cut off Jimmy’s supply of alcohol and it would probably take that long to wrangle Jimmy to the picture house anyway.

* * *

Predictably, they were late arriving and took their seats on the balcony just as the opening titles appeared. It was still early and the picture house was mostly empty - there were only two other people on the balcony and they were far enough away that Thomas couldn’t make out their faces in the gloom.

“What’s this about then?” Jimmy whispered.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen it yet,” Thomas shot back.

“But Valentino’s in it, right?”

“Yeah, and Dorothy Dalton.”

“I liked her in _The Dark Mirror_.”

Silence as Thomas attempted to watch the film and made a mental note never to let Jimmy drink _before_ going to the pictures. Jimmy fidgeted beside him, wriggling around in his seat until he was practically in Thomas’s seat with him.

“That’s Rudy,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I know.”

The footman leaned in closer still and whispered; “D’ya, you know, fancy the look of him?”

Thomas turned to glare at Jimmy.

“I’m just, y’know, askin’. Seeing as we’re mates an’ all. Best mates.”

“Jimmy,” Thomas warned.

“Dontcha think he’s handsome though?”

Thomas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose - he could see he’s wasn’t going to get any peace until he answered.

“No Jimmy, he’s not my type.”

“Oh,” Jimmy pulled a face but turned back to the screen.

A few moments of silence then; “What about Douglas Fairbanks?”

“No Jimmy.”

“John Gilbert?”

“Jimmy.”

“You liked that awful Theo, what was so special about him?

Thomas turned in his seat, irritated. “Nothing, alright? He was - he was interested in me and no one had been for a long time. It was nice to feel wanted. That’s all there was to it.”

“You didn’t love him then?” Jimmy said.

“Of course not, I barely knew him.”

“Oh.”

They watched the rest of the film in awkward silence. Jimmy turned to Thomas several times, as if he was going to say something, but each time he changed his mind and turned back to the screen.

When Valentino’s character went back to his love at the end of the movie Thomas pretended he hadn’t seen Jimmy sniffling into his sleeve. The footman was quiet on the bus journey home and barely spoke until they were almost back at the Abbey.

“Thomas,” Jimmy said, “lets stop here a minute, alright?” He perched on a low stone wall that ran around the periphery of the estate. Thomas sat beside him and lit two cigarettes by the yellow light of the waxing moon.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Jimmy said finally, his cigarette almost gone. “About why I’ve been so, y’know, down in the dumps.”

“Oh?”

“And it’s your fault.”

“What?” Thomas pulled a face, outraged.

Jimmy shook his head; “Just listen alright? It started when that horrible Theo bloke was all over you, and I thought it was because I might lose my mate. I’ve never really had a proper friend before you,” Jimmy gestured to Thomas with the dog-end of his cigarette, “and I - I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost you. But then - today when you said you’d jacked him in I - I felt like I’d been lit up like Christmas tree. An’ I realised something.” He threw his cigarette butt into the night and Thomas watched the little orange spot of light until it was smothered by the dewy grass.

“What did you realise Jimmy?” Thomas prompted.

“That I was jealous. So jealous that I was heartsick over it. And what I’m trying to say is - Thomas look at me,” Jimmy turned to straddle the wall and Thomas followed suit so they were sitting face-to-face. Jimmy’s eyes were large and scared and shining like moonlight reflected on a pond.

“What I’m trying to tell you Thomas,” he raked a shaking hand through his hair, “is that I love you. I’m in love with you. And - I have to know - do you still love me?”

Thomas methodically stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, leaned forwards and took one of Jimmy’s trembling hands between his own.

“Jimmy, I have loved you since I first met you and I’ll love you until the end of my days, my darling, idiot boy,” he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. He wound his fingers around Jimmy’s and held on tightly, lest he float off into space, so buoyed up with giddy happiness as he was.

“Only that long?” Jimmy smirked, but his eyes were wet and his fingers were squeezing Thomas’s and his free hand was balled up in the front of Thomas’s jacket.

“No, probably still love you when I’m dead an’ all,” Thomas grinned back.

“You better had.”

And they kissed, with the curve of the moon smiling down upon them.


End file.
